


Of Embrium and Lyrium

by TheDoctorsBride



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Addiction, Cullen teaches the Inquisitor Templar abilities, Gen, Inquisitor + Cullen friendship, Inquisitor/Dorian - Freeform, Lyrium, Lyrium Addiction, M/M flirting, No Smut, Slash, Slash pairing, Templar Training, tw: drug addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3547364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorsBride/pseuds/TheDoctorsBride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one supports the Inquisitor's decision to pursue a templar specialization. Still, Cullen agrees to help. Dorian pops in to check up on them.</p><p>For a prompt sent to my Tumblr: "Cullen teaches the Inquisitor Templar abilities."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Embrium and Lyrium

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt started out all jokes and flirting, then went to a very angsty place. ...Okay that's a lie. I intended every ounce of angst. But there _are_ fluffy bits!

Inigo breathed in deeply through the nose, the smell of smoke and the aroma of embrium washing over him. He exhaled slowly, watching the candle on the table before him dance slightly under his breath. The wax closest to the flame was just beginning to glisten as it melted.

Weary with boredom, he sighed quietly before continuing:

_“O Maker, hear my cry:_  
_Guide me through the blackest nights_  
_Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked_  
_Make me to rest in the warmest places.”_

Inigo fought the urge to wipe the sweat from his brow, trying to remain still. His mind became distracted as he droned on:

_“O Creator, see me kneel:_  
_For I walk only where You would bid me_  
_Stand only in places You have blessed_  
_Sing only the words You place in my throat.”_

Inigo felt an itch strike him perfectly between his shoulder blades in that impossible-to-reach spot. In an effort to relieve some of the discomfort, he rolled his shoulders discreetly, but to no avail. He huffed, agitated, and his words began to quicken:

_"My Maker, know my heart_  
_Take from me a life of sorrow_  
_Lift me from a world of pain_  
_Judge me worthy of Your endless pride..."_

The itch refused to relent, prodding at the very last threads of his patience. His annoyance now showed itself in full, his tone restless:

_"My Creator, judge me whole:_  
_Find me well within Your grace_  
_Touch me with fire that I be cleansed--"_

"Inquisitor."

Cullen's voice came firm and sharp from across the small table. Inigo's eyes snapped up to see the Commander fixing him with a disapproving stare.

Inigo finally broke his perfect, unflinching posture to scratch at his back.

"Inquisitor, please. Focus?" Cullen scolded. Inigo heaved out another sigh as he replaced his hands on his knees. Reluctantly, the Inquisitor forced himself to return to the even, measured pace (and the properly reverent, yet self-righteous monotone) with which the Chant demanded to be recited:

_"My Creator, judge me whole_  
_Find me well within Your grace_  
_Touch me with fire that I be cleansed..."_

Inigo could feel Cullen watching him with razor sharp judgement, ready to pounce on the slightest movement or distraction. It was unsettling, and rather irritating to be so patronized. The result was an update to the Chant:

" _Touch me with fire that I be cleansed..._ 'But, Maker, if, in the future, You could prevent my being _literally_ burned at the stake in Your name, that would be terribly decent of You.' So spoke Andraste at some point, probably."

Cullen let out a frustrated groan.

"Commander, this is dreadfully dull," Inigo complained.

“Inquisitor, we've barely even started. You only _just_ finished the fourth verse.”

“Of the twelfth stanza! _Twelfth!_ And I haven't said a word before now.”

“No. But you _have_ fidgeted since Transfigurations 2.”

Inigo's hand shot to his chest and he gasped in mock indignation. “I have not!”

Cullen raised an eyebrow at the Inquisitor. “Even with my eyes closed, I can still _hear_ you. Shifting and wiggling and-- Maker, the _sighing_.”

"I was not sighing! I was... breathing the way you instructed.”

“I _can_ hear the difference. You roll your eyes when you sigh.”

“And you _heard_ my eyes roll, did you?” Inigo scoffed.

“As a matter of fact, I did. It bore the distinct sound of exasperation. Nineteen times.”

“There's no way you could possibly--”

“Nine. Teen. Times.”

“You've... _counted?!_ ”

Cullen rubbed his temple, attempting to massage away the worst of his developing headache. "Inquisitor," he said, "this was _your_ idea. You said you wished to learn the ways of a templar. I've advised against it, but you insist. And when you asked for my help preparing I agreed. But if you do not intend to take this seriously..."

"And I'm thankful for your help," Inigo answered sincerely. "It's just that I haven't any idea how _this_ relates at all to templar training."

"As I have said, _several_ times before," Cullen explained with dwindling patience, "it is about _focus_. You are already a strong warrior--physical aspects of training can come later. But now, before that, we must train your _mind_. I apologize that it is not more stimulating... but you need to mentally prepare for what you plan on putting your body through."

"But _how_ will this--"

"It's about complete mastery over yourself," Cullen lectured. The man did not lack for passion. "Power to still your body and mind, shut out all distractions and concentrate only on the task at hand. It's about building willpower. So if you truly wish to learn templar abilities, _this_ is what you have to do. This is what you'll need to make the training in magic-cancellation go... smoother. Self control." 

Cullen hesitated, almost unsure whether he should go on. In the end he decided to explain the rest, saying, "This will also be useful when it comes time to introduce _lyrium_." The word may well have been a swear word for the way the Commander said it. "The meditation should aid you in managing the worst of the, er... cravings, for lack of a more appropriate term, as well as the more negative side effects... Addiction is always a threat but if you're truly and properly prepared, it will help some."

Now Inigo understood. Cullen was doing all he could to protect Inigo from going through what he himself was. And the Inquisitor felt ashamed of himself for being an ass about it.

"Cullen..." he began, apologetic for his childishness. 

It was then that the door opened and Dorian, bold and brazen as you like, swooped in with a swagger to his steps. He came to an abrupt halt just inside the room. Dorian took in the full scene as it was laid out before him--the candles lining the walls, the Commander and the Inquisitor staring most intensely at one another, looking rather like some clandestine rendezvous between secret lovers--and Dorian gave a low whistle.

"My, my!" he sang, eyeing them with false suspicion. "Isn't this _intimate_." Dorian sniffed at them, then after a moment's pause, he took a deeper whiff of the air. His eyes shot wide and he nodded at the candles. " _Scented_ and all! Such scandalous behavior, I swear!"

Cullen's cheeks grew red, and not from the heat of so many burning candles; heat which was now escaping through the open door. The templar glared up at the mage and opened his mouth to speak, but Dorian was too quick and eagerly cut Cullen off to continue his teasing. 

"Commander-- tsk, tsk," Dorian reprimanded, wagging his finger at the man. "What poor manners, seducing my dear Inquisitor with your scented candles and close quarters; with your furs and muscles and sexy scowling."

"Don't forget that delicious lip scar of his," Inigo chimed in, only too happy for a distraction from the previously serious atmosphere, and one that made Cullen blush delightfully at the same time. Inigo took the opportunity to unfold his legs from under him. His muscles ached in protest.

"Yes, that as well. Such foul play indeed!" Dorian dramatically wiped a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye. "How does the Inquisitor stand a chance of resisting such temptation, hm?"

Cullen's embarrassed blush deepened and spread, from the tip of his nose to the curves of his ears, up to his hairline and down his neck, disappearing under the collar of his shirt. 

Inigo and Dorian watched Cullen bite his tongue in an effort to seal in the reply swirling in his mouth. He almost resisted the need to respond to their provocations. Almost.

"The Inquisitor and I were working through exercises meant to prepare him for his specialization in templar talents," the Commander explained matter-of-factly. "To that end, yes, the candles are infused with embrium. Breathing its aroma has proven effective in sharpening the mind and improving cognitive function--something the Inquisitor is in _dire_ need of."

"Oh-ho-ho-ho!" Dorian chortled emphatically, delighted to hear Cullen make such a gibe. "That was rather good, Commander! I applaud you." The mage turned to Inigo, "It sounds like you've been having quite the time, my dear."

"Yes it is _exactly_ as fun as the Commander makes it out to be," Inigo quipped, idly rubbing the pain from his legs. "If it were not for Cullen's smoldering good looks and _charming_ personality, I certainly would have fallen over asleep by now."

Cullen sighed once more, rubbing the back of his neck. "Inquisitor..."

Inigo let his chuckling die out before answering, "Oh, come now, Commander! You are so very serious so _very_ often."

Dorian nodded his head, adding, "We simply _must_ try getting you to lighten up. Now and then?" he questioned. "Even just a little?"

Cullen looked between them, "I know your _attempts_ at humor are all in good fun. But this-this is very much a serious matter!" Then Cullen turned to the Inquisitor with such a concerned expression. "Inquisitor. You do understand, don't you? Because I know I've told you all of this before. You're taking a large personal risk in doing this--a decision I've been _firm_ in my objection to. If you are determined to go through with this, then I will help you as best I can. Help minimize the risk, but..."

Inigo had never seen the Commander fight him so desperately on any other subject. Cullen's hands balled into fists as he pleaded, "Inquisitor. I _implore_ you to reconsider! There are other ways for you to get stronger, other ways to challenge Corypheus. This danger you put yourself in is unnecessary!" 

Inigo couldn't bring himself to meet Cullen's gaze. The Inquisitor had been privy to the Commander's most private suffering, all to escape a fate that Inigo was now about to pursue. It felt like a betrayal of their friendship to not only do to himself what he'd convinced Cullen to fight against with all his strength, but to ask Cullen's help in doing so. It pained Inigo to hurt Cullen like that. But...

Corypheus had to be stopped. Hadn't Inigo sworn to himself that he would do anything in his power to that end? 

_How much exactly am I willing to sacrifice?_ It was a question Inigo found himself asking more and more often lately.

He'd been prepared for the likelihood that sealing the Breach would kill him. He'd been ready to stay behind in Haven to get everyone else out safely. Surely now, endangering his health and quite possibly his sanity were small things compared to his _life_ , which he had always been willing to give, without hesitation. 

Would he sacrifice the lives of those closest to him as well? Would he trade his family to stop Corypheus? Was the greater good worth more to him than his own flesh and blood?

What of his inner circle? As he grew closer to his companions and his advisors--as he came to think of them less as soldiers and more as friends--it became harder to send them into danger. Was he willing to gamble with their lives to end Corypheus? The answer grew less and less simple.

_How much exactly am I willing to sacrifice?_

Inigo could feel Cullen watching him process all he'd said, searching for some sign that Inigo would change his mind and stop this madness. Cullen looked to Dorian, who was now leaning against the wall, deeply contemplating his own boots. "And what of you?" Cullen asked him. "You've grown unusually quiet. Surely you object to this as well?"

Dorian lifted a shoulder pointedly, looking disinterested. "Hm," he grunted. "The Mage and the Templar? Sounds rather like one of the Lady Seeker's _horrendous_ romance novels, I love it." Dorian folded his arms across his chest. "Besides, he's learning to disrupt magic, not _actually_ joining the Order." 

Cullen stared at his hands in his lap, defeated. Inigo, though, was watching Dorian. The mage had shrugged it off as nothing, answered Cullen's question with glib nonchalance. But Inigo knew better, saw the almost imperceptible frown hiding beneath Dorian's mustache.

Dorian _did_ disapprove of Inigo's decision to train as a templar. They'd discussed it several times, late into the night, loudly, and Dorian's displeasure was unwavering. He had stopped fighting Inigo about it, but there was a tangible _distance_ between them when the subject arose.

It wasn't because Dorian was a mage, as his remark suggested. It was because of the danger Inigo was putting himself in, risking lyrium addiction and all that went with it. 

Dorian told Inigo that he cared about him deeply, but if he was determined to go through with this, if being by Inigo's side meant watching him slowly destroy himself... Dorian wasn't sure that he could stay with Inigo. Dorian made it clear that if Inigo risked his own well-being, he risked his relationship with Dorian as well.

_How much exactly am I willing to sacrifice?_

Dorian and Cullen weren't the only to disagree with Inigo's choice, they were merely the most vocal about it. A few of his friends hated templars on principle. But even those who didn't still opposed his decision out of concern for his safety.

If not their lives, was he willing to jeopardize their friendships? To upset them by endangering himself, to make the kinds of calls that would drive them away?

Inigo's life was easy to give. But there were things he valued more than his life.

_How much exactly am I willing to sacrifice?_

When Inigo thought about losing Dorian, he doubted his resolve. If there had been another option he would have taken it, but there was nothing. No other way. He still believed that.

So Inigo turned to Cullen. "I'm sorry, Cullen, about earlier, belittling your methods. To be honest... I wasn't convinced that deep breathing and scented candles and Chant of Light recitations were intended to aid me in preparing for templar training. In truth, I thought _you_ weren't taking this seriously," he admitted. "After all you _have_ objected every step of the way."

Inigo shook his head regretfully. "But... you also promised to assist me and I, I shouldn't have doubted you. I see now that despite your protests, you're still trying to help me. I couldn't be more grateful," Inigo said, more than a little in awe of the man's selflessness.

Inigo sat up straight, crossed his legs, and replaced his hands on his knees, the very picture of renewed determination. "So, Commander," Inigo began with a firm nod. "I'm ready to begin again, if you'll have it. I'll behave myself, I give you my word. Because..."

He sucked in a breath, trying to steel himself for what he needed to do now. "I _am_ serious about this. I _must_ become a templar. I simply see no better way to... This is the _best_ thing I can do." He felt Dorian's eyes burrowing into him, and Inigo added, "I'm sorry."

Inigo wasn't brave enough to look at Dorian, couldn't stomach seeing his expression. Inigo's heart clenched painfully in his chest at the thought. He focused on the candle in front of him, shaking his head sharply. There was no room for doubt, and without another word on the subject Inigo resumed his recitations where he'd left off:

_"My Creator, judge me whole:_  
_Find me well within Your grace_  
_Touch me with fire that I be cleansed_  
_Tell me I have sung to Your approval."_

At the Inquisitor's new found commitment, it was Cullen's turn to sigh, his eyes sad with disappointment. Still, he did as he was asked, assuming his own meditative pose and closing his eyes.

Inigo inhaled slowly through the nose, the scent of embrium almost too thick in his nostrils, making it difficult to breathe and leaving an unpleasant taste in his throat. He exhaled through the mouth, the candle's flame sputtering helplessly under the assault. The melted wax was now beginning to spill down the sides and onto the table as Inigo spoke:

_"O Maker, hear my cry:_  
_Seat me by Your side in death..."_

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dorian flinch at the words. Inigo dared a moment's glance, only to see Dorian quickly turn away from him. Eyes wet and jaw clenched, Dorian refused to allow his gaze anywhere near where the Inquisitor sat. Inigo's heart broke, the words coming out shaky as he struggled to finish the verse:

_"...Make me one within Your glory_  
_And let the world once more see Your favor."_

Inigo wouldn't, couldn't turn back. His decision was clear and final, and there would be no more debate. In this new reality, the silence between the three men was heavy with palpable tension. Under its weight, Inigo could only stare at the wavering flame. The melted wax was beginning to harden into an ugly clump at the base of the candle. 

Inigo stole one more glance at Dorian where he stood against the wall, staring at nothing in particular, lost in his own thoughts. Inigo wanted to scream at him, _I'm doing this_ for _you! To protect you, and everyone else that I care about, no matter the price._

That was the truth of things. This wasn't only about strengthening himself for the fight against Corypheus any longer. More than that, Inigo was becoming a templar because it was the best way he could think of to protect Dorian and the others from _anything_ that could ever try to harm them. They were worth that to him, even if it meant they hated him for it. 

_How much exactly am I willing to sacrifice?_

_Everything_ , was the answer in the end. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can send prompts to my Dragon Age Tumblr at  
> http://dragonageprompts.tumblr.com,  
> Or follow my personal blog at  
> http://dragon-age-obsession.tumblr.com


End file.
